God

An atheist friend of mine recently asked if I'd written about my idea of god. I suspect I have, but I don't know where those writings are. So, here I go.

As a child I believed in god by default. My parents believe in God, my father's a minister, we said grace at meals, sang the Doxology as our bedtime song. In debates with my best friend in preschool we would argue about what god was. She claimed god was in the moon. I believed god was everywhere. She pulled roots out of the ground better than I did, but I was better at the word contests. Just like most children, though, I didn't question much beyond figuring out what I was supposed to believe.

In high school I came up with an answer to the question of religion that I've often used since. I believe in church. I've seen people helped who have no other place to go. The institution itself can be a community of support unlike any other that I knew of at the time.

But as in high school, in college I made the mistake a lot of people (especially atheists and conservative fundamentalist religious people) make. I mixed up church and faith. I struggled with the fact that I never, ever wanted to go to church on Sunday mornings. Too hungover, of course, but, even when I wasn't, church wasn't a tempting option beyond the guilt of knowing my dad would like it if I went. I didn't think much about what I might believe in religious terms.

Fast forward to 1996 when I found myself facing my alcoholism. What worked for me, how I recovered from alcoholism, was realizing that staying sober wasn't up to me. My will power hadn't worked. "Wasn't up to me" meant there was something -- no idea what that "thing" was -- stronger than me, beyond me, where I'd get my strength.

Some people have spiritual experiences that are sudden and dramatic. Some have experiences of the "educational variety," where slowly, bit by bit, they change inside. Some think they've never had a spiritual experience (addressing this would be an entirely different blog post) at all.

In my case I had a sudden and dramatic experience that made me understand that god is real. Very early in my sobriety I was walking around as an exposed nerve. An open wound. My feelings were overwhelming me, too raw, too much. I was convinced I was going insane. I even asked people I knew how I could tell if I might need to go to the emergency room to get checked in to a mental hospital or something. It's only in restrospect I know I was just feeling feelings. At the time I thought I was being taken over by a truly insane brain. One night it came to a crisis point. I was lying on the air mattress in my otherwise unfurnished apartment, curled in the fetal position. The room was dark. I had my arms wrapped around my shins. I was rocking back and forth. I was sure I couldn't get up. I was actually honestly totally sure I couldn't get up, that I was almost paralyzed (except for the rocking).

In these weeks where I thought I was losing my mind, I'd call a friend of mine who was helping me with the difficult days of early recovery from alcoholism. I'd call and ramble on about how miserable I was. She'd say, "did you pray about it?" I'd say, "no" and I'd be so pissed that she wasn't paying attention to what I was saying. "I don't believe in god," I'd say. "Pray for the willingness to believe," she'd say. INFURIATING. "I don't want to pray for the willingness!" I'd whine. "Pray for the willingness to pray for the willingness," she'd laugh. Why I kept calling this woman, I'll never know.

Anyway, the message that something more powerful than me, something spiritual, was an essential part of my recovery from alcoholism was definitely a recurring theme in my life those days. I wasn't a believer. I wasn't a prayer. I didn't think there was anything I could pray to. In fact, even in those times when I thought I did believe in God, I never believed in the concept of praying for something to happen and having that thing happen.

But, in this moment of darkness when I thought I might never move, when I thought if was finally able to move that I might need to kill myself to end this insanity, I said these words in my mind, "God, please help me." And I realize any atheist reading this or any person with logic as their guide can have other explanations for what happened next, but, the *instant* I said, "God, please help me" I found myself suddenly sitting up on that air mattress.

I said it again.

I reached over for the phone and called a friend. I explained I wasn't sure what I was going to do next, but that I had to do something.

Dazed, I went to be with other people just like me who were all looking for spiritual solutions for their alcoholism. I told everyone I talked to how I thought I might need to be checked in somewhere. (I had no sense of personal boundaries at the time.)

From the moment I burst into the sitting position, though, I've known -- and I mean known -- there is a power greater than I am that can help me through my most difficult times. I have no problem with you defining that experience differently that I do. I'd also be perfectly content with the description of that power coming from inside me, deeper than I'd ever reached. But, how I got to that power was something that came from outside of me. My own physical, emotional, and spiritual experience that is all the evidence I'll ever need.

This experience has repeated itself in milder forms over the last 13 years and it never, ever fails. When something is particularly difficult, let's say I've picked up some obsessive personal habit I want to change, all I have to do is ask god to help me and the problem disappears. Not immediately, in many cases. And some problems require more vigilant communication with god. The change for those most difficult situations never happen if I don't pray. If I try to force my will to be strong enough on its own with no prayer, I do the craziest things.

How do I describe this concept of god? First, and most important to me, is that I don't think there is one definition of god that is right for everyone. For me, god is an experience or essence, a power, rather than an entity. For ease of communication I do what so many do, refer to god as a thing. But god for me is more like the feeling of love. No descriptions will ever do it justice, though it's fun to try (more fun to read others trying).

Some say god is omipotent, and I'd almost agree with that. But, that word (all powerful) implies use of power. And for me god doesn't "use" power, but god is power.

Some say god is omniscient. This doesn't fit at all with my concept of god, though I don't mind if it fits with yours. My idea of god has nothing to do with an entity or even a power capable of knowledge or knowing. Though I suppose if I were to consider this as meaning the energy or power that exists within knowledge, maybe...?

Some say god is responsible for...you name it. Again, any time the word "responsible" is used the idea of god would have to be an entity capable of human like feelings or thoughts. Same goes for "what god wants." Doesn't apply. (That said, I do use the term "god's will" as a short hand way of saying that I mean tapping into that power to find my own personal solutions rather than trying to figure it out all by myself.)

How can god exist when there are so many horrible things in the world? My concept of god is unrelated to tragedies or beauty except that it's everywhere. It doesn't cause things. It only empowers or strengthens.

My favorite way of describing god is this. I can't make a squirrel. Sure, we can understand every single biological scientific step of how a squirrel comes into being. But, what makes that all happen? And, yes, again, there's science that explains it all. But, what's behind that? What makes that science? There's an essence, an energy, a something that powers it all. I recognize this is an argument that falls short for many of my atheist friends. That's fine. I have absolutely no need to convince anyone that god exists. I know it does. My experience provides more than enough evidence for me.

Re-reading this as I go I can just imagine my father saying something about the post-modern perspective, or something else about individuals and disconnection or something. It makes me consider the question of whether the fact that I'm comfortable with my own concept of god being entirely personal to me means we're all alone in our search for god. I don't often go to the Bible for spiritual sustenance, but I do really like the idea that "where two of you are gathered, I am there." Or whatever that actual line is. It fits perfectly with my notion of god. If I'm alone I may or may not be able to make contact with that power greater than I am that I call god. But, if I'm with someone, that power is already there. Almost like a cartoon character having lightening bolts going in between the two people. Even if the two people hate each other. Two people together brings that power up stronger. Or, being out in nature can do the same thing. A group of people being together in nature is also seriously intense in how easy it is to connect to what I call god.

So, god can help change the world and solve the world's problems only when people get together to do the work. But, when people get together to do the work, they're more likely to tap into that power I call god. This is why church or any other group activity focused on centering ourselves can fit with my idea of god.

If that squirrel analogy or anything else I've said doesn't work to explain that something I call god, that's fine with me. And, if you would rather describe how I find that strength I need to do things I can't do on my own in some other way (my will power, my inner strength, etc.), that's fine, too. I know the strength to tap into that greater power within me comes from outside me. And, I know that I call that experience "god."



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